Spinach Salad with Blue Cheese, Cranberries, Maple-Glazed Pecans & Maple-Dijon Vinaigrette

This has been a winter of green salads for me.  Ever since Christmas it has seemed like I have always had an abundance of salad greens in my fridge…left from classes, pop up dinners, etc.  Baby lettuces, spinach, arugula, romaine, radicchio, endive….  I’m sure I’m missing some.  There are worse problems to have.  These leftover greens have provided the foundation for many a delicious winter lunch—satisfying my depths of winter craving for things fresh and raw.

If you want to be able to make spontaneous salads, you just need to make a point to keep a well-stocked salad pantry.  In addition to greens (if you don’t know how to store your greens so they keep for a while, check out my long ago post onhow to do so),  you’ll want to have nuts and seeds, dried and fresh fruits (this time of year: apples, pears, and all kinds of citrus),  cheeses and olives… things like eggs, avocado and canned/leftover meats/fish for substance…and finally, things like celery, radish, onion (red, scallion, shallots) for sharpness and crunch. 

If in addition to all this you keep a couple of nice homemade vinaigrettes in your fridge, you will be able to have a delicious and simple—or complex—salad anytime you like.  I almost always have a plain/basic vinaigrette in my fridge—one that will go with just about everything (usually mustard and shallot based).  And then another one with some kind of interesting flavor profile that fits the current season.  For example, in late winter and early spring, I like to make one with reduced orange juice (great on citrus, green vegetables like asparagus and green beans, beets and avocado).  And the maple one that I am sharing today is perfect for the fall and winter months. If all else fails, if you have olive oil and lemon juice (or a selection of vinegars), you can dress your greens with a squeeze of the latter and a drizzle of the former…and a sprinkling of salt & freshly ground pepper.

The salad I’m sharing today happens to be the one I served at my most recent curbside pickup dinner, but it could easily have been a spur of the moment pantry salad.  Most of the time after I have spent a lot of time cooking something, I’m not really in the mood to eat it myself.  (Hasn’t everyone experience this after big holiday meal preparations?).  But I was tired enough after my last curbside that I didn’t really want to start my dinner from scratch, so I had the salad I had served to my clients.  I was so glad I did.  Even in my “I’m tired of this food” state, I thought it was exceptionally good.  I knew I had to share it here.

It is just a simple spinach salad … enhanced with a few of the pantry elements listed above:  cheese…nuts…dried fruit…a tasty vinaigrette.  But don’t be fooled by its simplicity.  With just a few ingredients, it manages to hit all the right salad notes.  It is refreshing, tangy, salty and slightly sweet.  The addition of a little shredded romaine to the spinach, plus the crunchy maple glazed pecans and chewy dried cranberries, give texture…and the maple syrup spiked vinaigrette brings everything together nicely.  If you maintain a salad pantry, you probably have all the ingredients on hand to make it right now.

 

Spinach Salad with Gorgonzola, Dried Cranberries & Maple Glazed Pecans

5 oz. baby spinach (weighed after any obtrusive stems have been removed)
2 to 3 oz. romaine or radicchio, sliced in 1/4- to 1/2-inch wide ribbons
3/4 to 1 c. Maple Glazed Pecans (recipe below)
3/4 c./3 oz. dried cranberries/craisins
2 1/2 to 3 oz. crumbled Gorgonzola (choose a harder/crumbly aged variety—piccante or naturale), or substitute Feta
1 oz. shaved red onion, rinsed under cold running water and blotted dry (optional)
1/2 to 2/3 recipe Maple-Dijon Vinaigrette (recipe below)

Place all of the ingredients except the vinaigrette in a large bowl.  Season with salt & freshly ground pepper.  Drizzle a third cup of the vinaigrette over the salad and toss until everything is well coated…adding a bit more if necessary…but be careful, you don’t want a sodden salad. 

Mound the greens on a platter or divide among four individual plates.  If you like, drizzle a little more of the dressing over the plated salads. Serves 4
 

Maple-Dijon Vinaigrette

1/4 c. white wine vinegar
2 T. minced shallot
1/2 t. kosher salt
1 T. Dijon mustard
2 T. Maple syrup
5 T. olive oil
5 T. vegetable oil

Place the first three ingredients in a bowl and let sit for 5 to 10 minutes to allow the shallots to soften.  Add the Dijon and whisk until smooth.  Whisk in the maple syrup.  Add the oils in a thin stream, whisking constantly.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  You may need as much as another 1/4 t. of salt, depending on your palate (I add almost that much).

Makes a generous cup of vinaigrette.

Maple Glazed Pecans

Place the pecans (halves or coarsely broken pieces) in a bowl and add 2 T. of maple syrup and a slightly mounded 1/4 t. of kosher salt for every cup (115 g./4 oz.) of pecans.  Spread the nuts in a greased/oiled/sprayed baking sheet that is just large enough to hold the pecans in a snug single layer.  Transfer the pan to a 325° oven and bake for five minutes.  Give the nuts a stir with a heat proof spatula or pancake turner and return to the oven.  Continue to bake until the syrup is thickened and bubbling…and has darkened slightly.  The amount of time this will take will vary greatly according to how many cups of pecans you are preparing.  For one cup it might take 2 or 3 minutes, for 4 cups it will be closer to 6 or 7 minutes.  Do not under bake or the pecans will remain sticky.

Remove from the oven and immediately transfer the nuts to a second greased/sprayed/baking sheet, quickly spreading/separating the nuts…and continuing to stir and separate every few minutes as they cool.  Store in an airtight container at room temperature. 

 Printable Version 

Fettuccine with Leeks, Walnuts & Cream

I love pasta “sauces” that showcase one main vegetable. A quick scan of pastas I’ve posted over the years will bear this out:  peppers, broccoli, mushrooms, zucchini, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, corn, peas, winter squash, Swiss chard, tomatoes … although… maybe tomatoes don’t count….   Anyway, I obviously can’t get enough of these kinds of pastas.  They are a great way for someone in a small household to use up vegetables…or for the cook in any sized household to take advantage of seasonal abundance.  They are also usually fairly straightforward in their preparation…which means they can make for a quick dinner.  Furthermore, from a cook’s perspective they are instructive in that you can learn what spices, herbs, etc set off that one vegetable to advantage—making these pastas a great way to get to really know a vegetable and at the same time train your palate.    

Recently I was reminded of a “single ingredient” pasta I hadn’t made in a while when I found myself with several leeks in my pantry that had been intended for an event that ultimately didn’t happen.  (A lot of my eating this past year had been dictated by having to find ways to use ingredients that were purchased for an event that was canceled due to the pandemic.)  I could have used the leeks for an overdue “leek weekend” (à la French Women Don’t Get Fat)…but I didn’t really have enough for a whole weekend of dining (or to be more precise, not dining….). So I settled on other uses:  in a tart…a soup…and a pasta.  I was able to spread my leek fest out since they—like most winter vegetables—store pretty well.

The pasta I made is from a book by Janet Fletcher called Four Seasons Pasta.  If you have never run across this book…and you love pasta…you should check it out.  The book is organized by the seasons and is filled with recipes featuring authentic Italian sauces that aren’t necessarily familiar to American audiences.  The recipes work well…and are delicious.  And if you are interested in learning how to make your own pasta, there’s a good section on that too.

To make the leek sauce, leeks are softened in butter…reduced with a bit of cream…and finished with minced toasted walnuts and parsley.  Like other members of the onion family, leeks become sweet with prolonged cooking.  This cooking also gives them a silky texture.  The cream enhances both the sweetness and silkiness.  The slightly bitter toasted walnuts provide a nice flavor counterpoint and interesting texture.  Once the leeks are cleaned (the most difficult part of the recipe) the sauce comes together quickly and easily, making this a simple, elegant…and slightly different…winter weeknight meal. 

 Fettuccine with Leeks, Walnuts & Cream 

4 T. unsalted butter
5 or 6 leeks—white and pale green parts only—halved lengthwise, sliced thinly crosswise and well rinsed (5 to 6 cups sliced leeks)
Salt & Pepper, to taste
3/4 c. chicken stock
1 c. heavy cream
1 lb. fettuccine
2 T. minced flat leaf parsley
1/2 c. walnuts, plus more for garnish—toasted and chopped medium fine

Melt the butter in a large sauté pan over medium low heat.  Add the leeks and season lightly with salt.  Stir to coat with the butter.  Cover and cook gently until the leeks are tender, about 15 to 20 minutes—reducing the heat if necessary.  There should be a few tablespoons of flavorful liquid in the pan when they are done.  Add the stock and cream to the leeks and bring to a simmer.  Cook briefly, until the sauce is just slightly thickened.  Remove from the heat and keep warm.

While the leeks cook, bring 6 quarts of water to the boil in a large stock/pasta pot.  Add 2-3 Tablespoons of salt.  Add the pasta and cook until al dente.  Drain, reserving some of the pasta cooking liquid.

Add the parsley, walnuts and a generous amount of pepper to the leeks.  Add the pasta and toss to coat—adding some of the reserved pasta water if it seems dry.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Serve, garnished with more walnuts if desired.  Serves 4 to 6.

Variations:

• Add a clove or two of minced garlic and/or some minced fresh thyme to the leeks while they cook.
• Stir in a few tablespoons of mascarpone to the finished sauce.
• Garnish the pasta with crumbled goat cheese or blue cheese.

(Recipe from Four Seasons Pasta, by Janet Fletcher)

Printable Version

Roasted Potatoes & Carrots with Glazed Pearl Onions & Olives

The recipe I’m sharing today came about on Christmas day after a holiday season of scrambling to work as much as possible—and consequently spreading myself too thin—in order to prepare for the looming slower than usual January.  More tired than I have been in past years after a normal food-service industry pedal to the metal holiday pace (due to the stress of the past year, I assume), I hadn’t even bothered to shop for Christmas dinner.  I had meat options in my freezer…and an assortment of orphan vegetables (left from various private events) in my pantry and fridge.  I figured I could come up with something.  After all, I was only serving two.

As often happens at moments like this, the meal turned out to be exceptionally delicious.  I don’t know if it was due to low expectations… or having the freedom to prepare foods that aren’t on the extended family-approved list… or the fact that it was truly a simple meal (small number of ingredients…simply prepared).   It is likely that it was the intersection of all these things. 

In any case, it will live in my memory:  Lamb rack—flavored with salt, pepper & rosemary; haricots verts with hazelnuts, shallots and orange zest; and garlic and thyme roasted carrots and potatoes with pearl onions and black olives.  That’s it.  It had more the character of a fancier than usual week night meal than a holiday meal, but it was perfect for the day.  The lamb and green beans were already a part of my permanent repertoire.  The potatoes and carrots were a gussied up version of a simple dish I have made on and off over the years.  The pearl onions turned out to be the surprise star of the show.  

Glazed pearl onions are a garnish found often in traditional, classic French cooking.  When I was at Le Cordon Bleu, it seemed like they were in everything.  Peeling pearl onions was frequently the first thing you did when you entered your daily practical.  And peeling them is the most difficult part of the preparation.  But it isn’t really difficult…just a bit tedious.  It isn’t an activity that I would choose to do as often as we did it in school, but as I discovered on Christmas day:  it is occasionally worth it (especially if you are only preparing a few). 

To peel pearl onions, start by trimming the ends (getting rid of the roots and the stringy blossom end).  Then, place them in a bowl and cover them with boiling water.  Let them sit a few minutes until the skins begin to soften.  Lift them out of the water and peel away the skins while the onions are still warm.  To do this you will need the help of a paring knife (choke up on the knife and use just the tip).  If some of the outer layer of onion comes off because the skin seems stuck, don’t worry too much.  It is likely this outer layer is tough and dry if the softened skin won’t pull away and in such case it’s best to discard it anyway. 

To cook, place the onions in a saucepan that will just hold them in a snug single layer, cover them with water and add a bit of butter, sugar and salt. 

Bring to a simmer and cook, partially covered until they are almost tender (the tip of a knife will encounter a slight resistance in the center). 

Remove the lid completely, increase the heat to moderately high and boil rapidly until the water has evaporated and the onions are sizzling in the butter/sugar mixture. 

You may stop at this point if you just want a pale glaze…or you may continue to cook (over a slightly reduced heat, swirling the pan regularly and keeping a close eye on them) until the glaze caramelizes and the onions are coated in the golden brown glaze. 

In classic French cooking these onions are often used as a final garnish. They are simply warmed and scattered over the surface of the dish.  One of the most famous uses is in the à la grand-mère (grandmother style) garnish of meat stews: combined with fat chunks of bacon and sautéed mushrooms….a beautiful and delicious touch.

For Christmas dinner I used them as the final addition to a pan of roasted carrots and baby potatoes…along with some salty black olives.  I don’t normally keep pearl onions.  They were part of the odds and ends I had left from my busy season.  As I stood in front of my pantry on Christmas day, it occurred to me that they would add a special touch to our meal.  And they did.  The interplay of savory, salty and sweet lit up the plate.  If you are looking for a simple side that punches lots of flavor buttons to go with a plain cutlet or chop, you could do worse. 

I’m glad I rediscovered glazed pearl onions.  I think when I left school I wasn’t planning to ever cook them again of my own volition.  But revisiting them after all these years has elevated my opinion of them.  I will probably make a point to keep a bag in my pantry during the late fall and winter months from now on.  

Roasted Potatoes & Carrots with Glazed Pearl Onions & Olives

1/2 lb. creamer—or similar small—potatoes (about 8 potatoes), scrubbed
1/2 lb. carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks using a roll cut (see below)
4 to 5 cloves of garlic
Several sprigs of thyme
Olive oil
5 oz. yellow or white pearl onions, peeled
1 t. butter
1/2 t. sugar
10 to 12 pitted Kalamata olives, halved
1 T. minced flat leaf parsley
A squeeze of lemon, optional (see note)

Preheat the oven to 375°.  Combine the potatoes, carrots, garlic and thyme in a roasting pan large enough to hold the vegetables in a snug single layer.  Drizzle liberally with olive oil and season generously with salt and pepper. 

Cover the pan with foil transfer to the oven.  Remove the foil after 25 minutes.  Continue to roast until the vegetables are tender and beginning to caramelize—another 15 to 20 minutes. 

While the vegetables roast, prepare the glazed pearl onions.  Place the onions in a small saucepan just large enough to hold them in a snug single layer.  Add water to cover.  Add the butter sugar and a pinch of salt and bring to a simmer.  Cover and cook until almost tender.  Uncover and increase the heat to medium-high to high and boil until the liquid is reduced to a glaze; reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until the glaze turns a golden brown, swirling the pan to coat the onions with the glaze.   Set aside.

When the roasted vegetables are tender, add the pearl onions and olives to the pan.  Return to the oven and roast for another five minutes.  Remove from the oven.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt, pepper and a squeeze of lemon, if you like.  Fold in the parsley and finish with a drizzle of olive oil.  Serves 2 generously.

Notes:

• To roll cut carrots, place the carrot on the cutting board and cut a 1-inch segment, making the cut on a diagonal. Roll the carrot forward a quarter turn and make the next cut, using the same angle. Continue to roll and cut all the way up the carrot.
• You may or may not need lemon juice. If the carrots and onions are fresh and sweet, you might not. But after tasting the finished vegetables, if they are well seasoned, yet still seem a bit one dimensional or flat tasting, give them a squeeze of lemon to lift and brighten the flavors.
• You may substitute cipollini onions for the pearl onions if you like. 
• The recipe is easily multiplied.  Just choose appropriately sized pans.

Printable Version 

 

Classic Beef Stew

My first cooking class of 2021 was called Classic Comfort Food.  Even though the phrase "comfort food" is a bit of a cliché, I am unapologetic about the title.  I think it is useful in describing what we all seem to need at the moment.  It is meant to describe food that transports us to tables and moments past when simple, familiar food—prepared by someone who loved us—had the ability to momentarily hold our worries at bay.  I could use some of that right now.  Furthermore, for me, these foods also remind me of people that I love—and meals shared with them.  Since I’m eating all of my meals alone these days, I could use some of that too. 

The beef stew my mother made when I was growing up was delicious.  I was a picky eater…but I loved her stew.  The stew I make today is actually very similar to the one she made.  I have returned it to its French roots (with a bit more attention to technique…and added red wine, bacon and mushrooms), and I have omitted her final addition of peas.  But otherwise, the tender meat, carrots, and potatoes, suspended in a rustic “broth” –lightly thickened by virtue of the flour-dredged beef, the onions that have disintegrated from long cooking, and the starch released from the potatoes—is exactly like hers.  There are no tomatoes…or peppers…or other odd ingredients that I would have resented as a child—just a simple, straight forward, bowl of beefy goodness.  I always think of long ago family meals when I sit down to a bowl of that stew.

If you have never made beef stew, this one is a good place to start.  It gives back loads of flavor for minimal effort...and is a perfect activity for a homebound Saturday or Sunday. As with all braises, it will take the better part of the afternoon to make.   But since most of that time is in the oven with nothing required of you (other than the occasional peek under the lid), it counts as easy in my book.  If you aren’t familiar with the hows, whys and processes of a braise, check out my basics post from a few years ago before getting started.

One important thing to note: when you’re shopping, make sure you purchase beef chuck or boneless short rib meat—not the “stew meat” sold at most butcher counters.  Generic stew meat is usually a mystery conglomeration of beef trim that serves as a way for the butcher to make money from what would otherwise go in the trash.  To prepare a good stew, you need specific tough, sinewy cuts from around the joints and well-used muscles of the animal.  “Stew meat” may or may not contain these cuts. 

Furthermore, the pieces of meat you use for your stew need to be on the large side—certainly larger than the nubbins in the stew meat bin.  Small pieces of meat will disintegrate into the broth.  The large pieces will look more attractive and be easier to serve.  It is an easy thing to just cut up a chuck roast or some boneless beef short ribs yourself when you get home.  Cut the meat into 1 1/2- to 2-inch cubes.  These pieces will seem large…but they will shrink as they cook.  And you needn’t worry that the large pieces will be difficult to eat from a bowl:  when cooked properly, the meat is tender enough to be “cut” into bite-sized pieces with a spoon.   Another bonus in cutting the meat yourself:  you can be as fastidious as you like in removing the fat.  I generally only remove obvious, large knobs since most of the fat will dissolve and add flavor and moisture to the stew.  Any excess can be blotted off or skimmed away from the finished stew. 

I had hoped that this year would be less traumatic than last.  So far the year isn’t very promising.  One of the things I have control over is how I feed myself.  So, I continue to cook….every day.  I highly recommend it.  Occasionally preparing and eating a bowl of stew…or some other delicious and simple food that reminds me of people I wish I could be with and better days…gives me a measure of hope that things will one day be better again. 

Classic French-style Beef Stew

2 1/2 to 3 lbs. boneless beef short ribs or chuck, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
Salt & freshly ground pepper
4 oz. thick-sliced bacon, cut crosswise into 1/2-inch strips
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 onions, (about 1 lb.) cut in a 1/2-inch dice
2 large cloves garlic, minced
salt and pepper, to taste
3/4 c. dry red wine
3 to 4 c. beef or chicken stock—if using canned, use low-salt
2 or 3 sprigs thyme
1 lb. carrots, peeled and cut crosswise on a 1/2-inch short diagonal
1 lb. Yukon potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks
8 oz. mushrooms, cleaned and halved (quartered, if large)
1/4 c. minced flat-leaf parsley

The day before you plan to prepare the stew, season the meat generously with salt.  I use 3/4 t. of kosher salt per pound of meat (so about 2 t.).  Wrap loosely and refrigerate overnight.

To prepare the stew: Render the bacon in a large stew pot or Dutch oven set over medium heat.  When the bacon is crisp, remove it along with the fat, reserving each separately. 

While the bacon cooks, dredge the beef in the flour, shaking off the excess.  

Return enough of the bacon fat to the pan to coat the bottom of the pan and increase the heat to medium-high.  Brown the beef on all sides—it may be necessary to do this in batches so the pan isn’t over-crowded.  

Add more bacon fat as necessary.  Remove all the meat to a platter 

and add more bacon fat or olive oil to the pan.  Add the onions.  Regulate the heat as necessary to sweat the onions just until softened and beginning to take on a golden color (about 5 to 10 minutes).  

Add the garlic and continue to cook for a minute or so.  Add the wine and bring to a boil, scraping the bottom of the pan to release the caramelized meat and vegetable juices.  Reduce the wine by at least half. 

Return the meat to the pan and add enough broth to cover the meat.  

Add the thyme.  Bring to a boil.  Cover and transfer to a preheated 300° oven.  Bake for 2 hours, checking occasionally to make sure the stew is cooking at a bare simmer.  It should not boil hard…but it should maintain an active simmer.  Reduce the oven temperature if necessary.

After 2 hours, remove the stew from the oven.  If there is a lot of grease pooling on the surface, spoon it off, or blot with a paper towel.  

Add the potatoes and carrots, season with salt and pepper, cover and return to the oven until the meat and vegetables are fork tender (about 45 minutes to an hour more).

While the stew finishes cooking, sauté the mushrooms in some of the bacon fat (or olive oil or butter) until nicely browned; Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

When the vegetables are tender, carefully stir in the mushrooms and bacon.  Taste and correct the seasoning.  Remove the thyme sprigs and serve, sprinkled with minced parsley.  Serves 6
 

(Recipe adapted from The Kansas City Star November 11, 1992)

Variation: 

• Classically, this French-style stew would be finished with glazed pearl onions in addition to the mushrooms and bacon.  To prepare the pearl onions, place 8 oz. of peeled pearl onions in a saucepan and cover them with water.  Add 1/2 T. of butter, a teaspoon of sugar and a pinch of salt and bring to a simmer.  Cover and cook until almost tender.  Uncover and increase the heat to high and boil until the liquid is reduced to a glaze; reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until the glaze turns a golden brown, swirling the pan to coat the onions with the glaze.  Scatter the pearl onions over the stew with the mushrooms and bacon.  Or, for a more classic presentation, reheat the pearl onions, mushrooms and bacon separately and garnish each bowl of stew individually with them.
  
• For a more American-style beef stew, omit the red wine, mushrooms and bacon.  Brown the meat in vegetable oil.  Add a cup of frozen peas to the stew during the last five minutes of cooking.

Printable Version

Pumpkin Boule with Dried Cranberries & Pepitas

I have been baking yeast breads for a long time.  Long before I went to cooking school to become a chef I was making pizza dough…my grandmother’s dinner rolls…cinnamon buns…honey whole wheat loaves…etc.  I can probably knead dough in my sleep.  But at some point during the last 20 years or so the manner in which kneading is accomplished began to expand and change.  The methods and techniques I learned are still used…they work very well after all—and they still produce beautiful breads.  But among artisan bread bakers—whose amazing “old world” breads can now be found in specialty bakeries everywhere—you will often find that they are manipulating their doughs in a very different way. 

I was aware that this alternate method of working with dough was developing around me.  But it—along with sourdough—seemed beyond the purview of the occasional bread baker.  It was while learning about sourdough by watching the IG Live tutorials from Bread Ahead Bakery during the early days of the pandemic that I discovered that this new method (“folding” the dough…as opposed to kneading) was in fact less—rather than more—complicated.

The reason we knead dough is to develop gluten.  Wheat flour contains a couple of proteins that produce gluten when water (or other liquid) is introduced via a mechanical action like stirring…or kneading.  The stretchy strands of gluten are what give yeast doughs their strength and their loft.  If you have ever kneaded dough, you have seen this development occur as the dough goes from a lumpy mass to a smooth, springy ball. 

If I understand the process correctly, in the slow measured pace of the “no knead” folding method, much of the mechanical action is occurring at the microscopic level as the yeast consumes the sugars in the flour.  By occasionally folding the dough over on itself, you are exposing the yeast to fresh sources of food so it can continue to multiply…and at the same time as you stretch the dough during each fold you are strengthening the developing gluten.  And if you try this method, each time you return to the bowl to give the dough a fold, you will notice that the dough discernibly smoother and is increasingly more supple and elastic.  It really is amazing.  

Here are some pictures of Ciabatta from first sloppy mix to risen dough (after three sets of folds): 

Having described it as I understand it at this point, I feel I must add a caveat.  I have barely scratched the surface in acquiring knowledge of this big world of artisan breads…my understanding of this process is minimal and mostly experiential.  Ten years from now I may come across this post and be appalled at how I’ve described it.  In the end, what I really know now is that the breads I have made using this method have been fantastic.  And I’m excited to continue to expand my repertoire of breads that use it.

There are a couple of ways (that I know of…probably more) to execute a fold.  Many people simply leave the dough in the bowl.  To fold, simply grab one side of the dough, pull up—stretching it as far as it will allow without tearing or breaking—and then lay it down over itself.  Repeat this action three times, giving the bowl a quarter of a turn each time so that you are folding the dough from all four points of the compass.  My preferred way of folding is to tip the dough out on an oiled sheet pan (or you can simply oil your counter), gently flatten/stretch it a bit into a rectangle and then execute two letter or envelope-style folds:  fold the top third of the rectangle down…then the bottom third up (as if you were folding an 81/2- by 11-inch sheet of paper to stuff into an envelope).  Rotate the resulting slender rectangle a quarter of a turn…flatten it slightly and repeat the same style of fold.  Turn it over and put it back in the bowl. 

This fall as we approached pumpkin season, armed with my new knowledge, I was determined to work on a yeasted pumpkin bread that I have been playing around with for several years now.  I always felt it had great potential…but I was somehow missing something in the process that would turn it into a consistent and delicious loaf.

"Crumb shot" of that first never-to-be-duplicated loaf.

The first time I made this pumpkin boule I had been poking around looking for a bread that used whey.  I frequently have whey on hand (left after making Labneh) and feel bad just throwing it away.  Somewhere I had read it was good in bread.   I found a recipe for a pumpkin and whey boule by Dan Lepard that looked interesting.  Then I had pumpkin bread on the brain so I started looking for other pumpkin yeast bread recipes.  I found one that was similar, but also included some traditional spices (which seemed like a great idea).  The loaf I ended up making pulled from both recipes…and it was delicious.

Unfortunately I was never really able to repeat the success (although I tried every year).  This year though, with some of my newly acquired knowledge and experience, I thought I would try again…this time incorporating folding…and baking in a Dutch oven (something else I had never tried prior to the pandemic).

It’s amazing what a little knowledge can do.  The loaf was all I had hoped and imagined it could be: a crusty boule with a tender crumb…studded with crispy pepitas and tangy craisins.  I realized only later that I had forgotten to use whey….  I like it so well just the way it is that I have never even tried to make it with whey (even though I have made it several times this fall).

I have loved having this bread on hand during the autumn months.  (So much so that it replaced my new “house” sourdough loaf for a while…).  It is delicious toasted …smeared with Labneh…or butter…and honey.  I’m sure no one is surprised to hear that I have put it through its paces for grilled cheese sandwiches.  (It makes an unbelievably good grilled cheese–especially if you include a little bit of tangy goat cheese…).  And of course it is very fine sandwiched around roast turkey, crunchy lettuce, cranberry sauce and mayo…plus whatever else you happen to like on your leftover turkey sandwich.  It is a loaf I am certain will be a part of my autumn repertoire for years to come. 

 

Pumpkin Boule with Craisins & Pepitas

285 g. warm water (see notes)
165 g. pumpkin purée/solid pack pumpkin
4 g. (1 1/4 t.) instant or active dry yeast
500 g. bread flour
25 g olive oil
10 g (1 1/2 t.) fine salt
1/8 t. each cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger
Olive oil for folding
85 g. pepitas, lightly toasted (see notes)
125 g. craisins (left whole, or coarsely chopped)

Place the water in a large mixing bowl and whisk in the pumpkin.  Sprinkle the yeast over this mixture and whisk in.  If you are using active dry yeast, wait a minute or two for the yeast to soften (instant yeast will dissolve “instantly”).  Add the flour, olive oil, salt and spices (in that order)

 and mix until you have a homogenous mass.  (A Danish dough whisk is my new favorite tool for this initial mixing—but if you don’t have one, a rubber spatula or wooden spoon is fine—just remember to scrape all the dough off of your tool and back into the bowl—you don’t want to waste/lose any dough.)  

Using a rounded bowl scraper, scrape down the sides/clean the bowl so that you have a nice, neat mass of dough.  

Cover with plastic wrap and let rest for 1 1/4 hour. 

After an hour and a quarter, execute the first fold, incorporating the pepitas and craisins at the same time:  Drizzle a small amount of olive oil on a sheet pan 

and spread with your hands (or a brush) so that the dough won’t stick.  Scrape the dough in one mass onto the oiled sheet and with lightly oiled hands/fingertips, nudge the dough out into a large rectangle. (Only stretch as much as the dough will allow without tearing.)  Scatter two-thirds of the craisins and two-thirds of the pepitas over the bottom two-thirds of the rectangle.

Starting with the portion of the dough without any pepitas or craisins, fold the dough in thirds as if you were folding a letter to put it in an envelope.  

Rotate the dough 90° and repeat this letter/envelope fold with the remaining third of the pepitas and craisins (spreading out the dough as much as it will allow and placing the craisins and pepitas only on the lower two-thirds of the dough). 

When you are done you will have a square-ish ball of dough with all of the craisins and pepitas encased inside.  Place the dough back in its bowl and cover again with plastic wrap.

After 45 minutes, scrape the dough back out onto the oiled sheet and give it another two letter/envelope-style folds exactly as before (only this time you obviously won’t be adding anything to the dough).  

Return to the bowl and let it remain at room temperature until almost doubled—about an hour.  

Transfer to the refrigerator to slow down the fermentation and allow the flavor to develop overnight.

The next day, take the dough out of the fridge (it will have more than doubled) and scrape it onto a lightly floured counter.  

Give it a gentle pre-shape into a loose ball (in doing this, you will effectively deflate the dough—but don’t aggressively “punch it down” or “knock it back”—just gently form it into a round).  

Turn the bowl upside down over the ball of dough and let it rest on the counter for 20 to 30 minutes. 

After it has had a rest, scrape most of the flour off of the counter and form the dough into a tight ball/boule by working against the counter.  (If any craisins pop through the surface during this process, simply poke them back toward the interior of the loaf and pinch the dough around them—they will burn during the baking process is left exposed on the surface.)   Place the loaf with the pinched side/seams down on a semolina dusted or parchment-lined (see notes) sheet pan or pizza peel.

Turn the mixing bowl upside down over the dough again and let the loaf rise in a warmish spot until it is doubled (until the dough doesn’t spring back—or springs back very slowly—when prodded with a floured finger).  I often resort to sticking the peel/pan with the loaf in the oven with the light on…or with the proofing function on…when my house is very cold.  The loaf should be ready to bake in about 3 hours.

A half hour before you are ready to bake, place a covered 5 quart (or thereabout) Dutch oven in your oven and preheat the oven to 475°.  When ready to bake, uncover the loaf and dredge lightly (using a small sieve) with flour.  Give the loaf three parallel slashes with a sharp knife or razor blade.  

Take the Dutch oven out of the oven (be careful…it is screaming hot), remove the lid and transfer the loaf to the pot—either by placing your open hands on either side of the loaf and scooping it up and dropping it quickly and gently into the pot…or by lifting it using the edges of the parchment paper and placing it in the pot with the parchment underneath.  Put the lid back on and transfer to the oven.  Immediately reduce the oven temperature to 450°.  Bake for 30 minutes.  Remove the lid from the Dutch oven and continue to bake until the bread reaches an internal temperature of 205°…another 15 minutes (give or take, depending on your oven).

Remove the bread from the Dutch oven and cool on a wire rack (I cool mine just by letting it sit on the “grates” of my gas stove).  It should be completely cool before slicing.

Notes: 

• Cinnamon and ginger in small quantities enhance yeast activity. In large quantities they have the opposite effect and retard the activity of the yeast. Furthermore, this loaf is not intended to be “spicy” or have any kind of a sweet, “pumpkin spice” flavor profile. The spices are present to add warmth…and a hint of flavor and fragrance evocative of flavors we associate with autumn. Adding extra spice will not do any favors for the yeast…or, in my opinion, the final flavor.
• Yeast thrives and is happiest in a warmish environment. When I mix up this dough, I aim for an initial dough temperature of 80 to 83 degrees. You will need to consider the temperature of the major ingredients (flour, pumpkin and water) in order to achieve this. In the fall and winter my home is cool (somewhere around 67° or less). This means my flour will be about that temperature…and the pumpkin too, if I am just opening a can. But more often than not, I make this bread when I have a portion of a can left…which means the temperature of the pumpkin will be closer to 40°. Since I want my dough to be around 80°, the only way to get it there is by manipulating the temperature of the water. For me, this means I use hot tap water and then I take the temperature of the water after I put it in the bowl (remember, the bowl is cool too, if it has been at room temperature, and will bring down the temperature of the water). I have found that with room temperature flour…and cold pumpkin…if my water temperature in the bowl is around 115°…that I end up with an initial dough temperature (right after mixing) of 81°. If your house is significantly warmer than mine…and if your pumpkin is at room temperature…you will need to lower the temperature of the water a bit. And if all of this is too complicated for you, just mix up your dough with warm water. As long as you don’t allow your yeast to come into contact with water/liquid that is hotter than 115° you will be able to produce a nice loaf…it will just rise/prove at a different rate than mine. 
• To toast the pepitas, spread them in a small baking pan and place in a 350° oven for 7 to 10 minutes—or until some are beginning to turn golden around the edges. You may also toast them in a dry skillet over moderate heat (but you must stir frequently and regularly…and constantly at the end). 
• This is not a particularly wet dough and I have not had difficulty moving it from the board to the Dutch oven, but if you are worried that it might stick…or that you will have difficulty scooping it up and moving it to the pot…let it proof/rise on a square of parchment paper. Then when it comes time to transfer it to the Dutch oven, simply lift and move it using the parchment paper. It will not harm the loaf to bake it with parchment paper in the pot. 
• November 2024:  I didn't have quite enough pumpkin to make the full recipe.  So I made exactly 80% of the recipe.  If you have ever made this bread, you know it makes a very large loaf.  The 80% sized loaf made a more moderately sized loaf that I found particularly appealing.

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